(A/N)- Thanks everyone for reviewing! :) They really made my day! Sorry this took a while to update - I really didn't expect anyone to read it and I didn't want to disappoint ... Last week was hell for me. This chapter has been backspaced and completely rewritten at least 5 times ... and in my opinion, it's rather boring, sooo ... please don't critique it much, it's filler. Just filler. Because if I jump ahead to Broomhead's arrival, it would just be too soon. xP
Chapter 3 : The All-Seeing Eye
"Your last name will be Wolfsbane." Constance reminded as she dropped her daughter's bags down by the bottom of the stairwell.
"It always has been." Charlotte murmured, watching as the other girls made their way down the steps, heading into the mess hall for supper. They made sure to stay well out of Miss Hardbroom's way as she took Charlotte's salamander tank from her arms and placed it on top of her bags with a sigh.
She looked over at Charlotte, who was awkwardly trying to pat down the loose strands of hair that had become unbound from its long plait during the flight. She was watching the girls as they passed, face expressionless. It was almost as if she was expecting the same outcome from this school as the last one. A girl giggled to her friend on the way down, and, thinking it was directed at her, she looked down at the stone floor.
"Don't dawdle, girls!" Constance shouted at Griselda Blackwood and Fenella Feverfew, who had both stopped at the foot of the stairs to wait for someone. They promptly continued on their way, shooting a glance at the new girl as they did, and exchanging glances with one another as they headed into the mess hall.
Constance approached her daughter once the crowd seemed to lessen. She lightly touched her daughter's head, and the loose strands of hair tucked themselves back into her plait. The magic sent a sort of chill up Charlotte's spine, and she shivered, looking up at her mother.
"Thank you, Miss Hardbroom," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her mother simply stared back down at her, and in that moment, she could almost see a wall fall between them. The wall that made them no longer mother and daughter, but teacher and student.
She wondered if she would be able to bear this. It was bad enough that she rarely saw her mother nowadays, but to have to see her everyday and not be able to talk to her except for on a professional sort of level ... she only hoped Miss Hardbroom would keep her promise to teach her how to control her powers ...
"Welcome to Cackles, Charlotte Wolfsbane." she eventually replied quietly, trying to look at least a bit happy so that her daughter would feel happy to be here, but already a sort of sadness had swept over Constance. Sure, she would have her daughter here at all times, and be able to look after her and teach her ... but she could not treat her as if she were her daughter. It was for her own good, she kept reminding herself.
"Well," Constance said with an uneasy sigh, "It's just about supper time ..."
"Actually, I was wondering if maybe I could skip it?" she asked hopefully, "I'm feeling a little queasy from the flight, and I'd rather just settle in ..."
Constance didn't believe her, and she felt like asking her if she'd like some foul-tasting potion to remedy it, but she decided against it. Charlotte eyed the students as they passed, looking worriedly at them.
"They probably don't know about it," Constance said under her breath, pretending she wasn't speaking to her as she watched the students make their way into the great hall, "Cackle's is a rather reclusive school."
She looked over at Charlotte, who still looked hesitant.
"I know," she replied quietly, "I won't ask this of you again, Miss ... please?"
Constance sighed, and nodded reluctantly, "Just this once."
Charlotte smiled thankfully, and strode over to her bags, but Constance stopped her. She pointed at the bags with her usual pointer and pinky finger, and zapped them into thin air, transporting them upstairs, "Don't tell anyone I just did that for you," she muttered, suppressing a smile, "Shall I show you up to your room?"
"I think I'll manage," she assured with a reassuring grin, "Goodnight ..."
Constance watched as Charlotte slipped past the other girls as they passed her on their way to dinner. Once her daughter was out of sight, she let out a heavy sigh, and headed off to the staff room.
"Constance!" Amelia greeted, touching the woman's shoulder as she passed, sitting beside her, "I trust your trip went well?"
"Well enough, I suppose." Constance replied, and added before sipping her tea, "Thank you for asking, Amelia."
"How is Charlotte?"
"She's fine, despite the urgency in her letter ..." she sighed, "I don't know all the details yet, but apparently she somehow conjured up a storm."
Amelia's eyes widened slightly, "I see ... was she expelled then?"
"Catherine said she most likely would have been," Constance replied, referring to Catherine Salamander, Headmistress of Salamander Witch School, "I went to sign Charlotte out of the school after hearing her side of the story. Catherine didn't reveal much, but she said a student had been injured, nothing too serious of course ..." she sighed deeply, "I've also learnt that Hecketty Broomhead was at the school, not only to inspect, but to inquire about a permanent teaching position there. Catherine declined her request, naturally."
"Of course." Amelia said, knowing Catherine Salamander all too well. The woman was strict with her students, perhaps even more than Constance was, but she was against the old ways of teaching. She did, however, enforce punishment through physical labor rather than the writing of lines. Catherine felt the children were less inclined to do wrong if every time they spoke out of turn they'd wind up scrubbing the floors for the rest of the evening. It was a bit harsh at times, but it was still better than the punishments Mistress Broomhead would give.
"I feared Hecketty would be after her," Constance admitted, looking seriously over at the woman who knew her even before she had been put under Broomhead's tutelage. "So I've accepted your previous offer, and she'll be staying here from now on. Without my husband around anymore, I decided I shouldn't take any chances."
Amelia nodded, "She's safe here," she assured, placing a warm calloused hand on Constance's arm, giving it a small reassuring squeeze, "You both are."
Constance nodded, "Thank you Amelia ..."
"Now," Amelia began with a deep breath, "where the devil is Drill?"
As if on cue, Imogen burst in the door at that exact moment, wearing a dripping wet raincoat and looking miserable. When she saw her colleagues staring at her in bewilderment, she smiled warmly, "Some weather, eh?"
Constance's blood ran cold, and she shot a horrified glance at Amelia who, in that moment, had just realized who could possibly be the reason for it.
Trembling, Constance folded her arms and disappeared, leaving Imogen puzzled and offended.
Constance appeared at the foot of Charlotte's bed. She was sitting there cross-legged, looking at a small crystal ball in her hands. She was too captivated by the images in it to notice her mother had appeared.
"What is that?" Constance asked sharply, and she jumped, causing the crystal ball to leap from her hands and roll off the bed. Charlotte scrambled to get it, but Constance beat her to it with magic, making the ball fly up into her open palm.
"It's just a crystal," Charlotte murmured, "Nothing more ..."
Constance curiously observed the image it was playing, of a young girl about Charlotte's age, donned in Salamander's traditional green and black colors. She had short red hair pulled into a ponytail, and she was talking and laughing with other students as they ate dinner.
"Who is this?" she asked, her deep brown eyes flickering up to look at her daughter, who was sitting there, awkwardly wringing the hem of her dress in one hand as she looked a bit tearfully back at her.
"No one important," she said dryly, "At least not anymore."
Constance raised a brow, but didn't comment. "Can you see everyone in this?"
"Depends on how good they are at magick," she said, calming down a bit even though she could see where this was leading, and she knew that, at the end of this conversation, she wouldn't be allowed to keep her crystal ball.
"I can't see you in it, if that's what you're thinking," Charlotte said, knowing how much her mother hated to be spied on, "You show up sometimes, or at least I think you do. It's always a blur."
"Can you see her in it?" she asked irritably.
"I didn't dare to try ..." Charlotte admitted.
"Good," she said, calming down a bit, "It would be very foolish of you to try it, for if you can see her, odds are she can see you too."
she held up the crystal ball, motioning to Charlotte with it, "I'm keeping this, for your own safety. You may have it back if or when this is all over."
"What do you mean 'if'?" Charlotte asked, but Constance ignored her. She didn't want to elaborate. She should've just said 'when', but that would keep the girl's hopes up that Hecketty won't come back to try and claim her. If she did, Constance would do whatever it is in her power to stop her, but in the end, Hecketty always got what she wanted. Always.
"Are you responsible for that?" she asked, pointing to the window. Charlotte turned, suddenly aware of the rain, and she shook her head.
"No," she said, "At least, I don't think so. It only happens when I'm angry."
Constance nodded, "Well, do mind your feelings and their effects on the weather," she said, "I shall see you tomorrow."
And she shut the door without another word.
Constance could bear the terror no longer. It was awful enough to be shut away for all hours of the day while her personal tutor attended meetings for the Witch Council. The door was bolted shut with locks and magick, as were the windows. She was left in the dark, despite her pleas to keep at least a small candle lit.
'And why? So you can burn the house down whilst I'm away?' Hecketty had snapped, and Constance had leapt away just in time, saving her fingers from being slammed in the door.
The house was old and creaky, and she was certain it had rats though she had never seen one. Wind howled against the building, rattling the windows and making it damn near impossible for her to think.
She'd often spend these days dreaming of a way to escape. Others, she'd simply lay there and accept her fate. No one had heard her cries for help since she was five years old, and now, being ten years of age, she had lost all hope of ever being saved.
She wished for a way to find out when Mistress Broomhead was on her way back. This would not only give her time to calm down and wipe her tears, but to prepare her so she wouldn't look so scared when the woman appeared outside the door and threw it open. She would always receive ten lashings to her shins for looking like a mess, and a slap to the face for looking up at the woman in such terror.
She felt her way around in the darkness, on her hands and knees, and her fingertips brushed the cool metal bowl that she'd snuck in earlier so that she could wash herself up a bit before Hecketty returned, in an effort to make herself look more decent. The bowl, however, would serve a greater purpose this time.
She sat with her legs folded, tucking her short black hair behind her ears. (Hecketty despised long hair on girls for she felt it served as a distraction and required time to maintain, time that would be better spent elsewhere.) Constance missed her long hair, for when she let it down she felt safer and hidden, even when under the watchful eyes of Hecketty Broomhead.
She conjured up water, and it filled the bowl as she tossed the sponge aside. She could see her reflection on the water in the small amount of moonlight that spilled from the only window in her 'time-out' room. She sighed deeply, fighting back the tears as she ran her hand along her cropped hair in dismay. With another deep breath, she regained her composure, and made sure the bowl stayed cradled and secure in her lap.
She held her hands above the water, pointing her pointer and pinky finger at down at the water. It was a habit she'd gotten into when she was young in an attempt to help her focus her magick. Hecketty didn't approve of this hand gesture at all; she felt this was a crude and bad habit Constance had acquired. She was convinced she had beaten it out of her, but Constance still used this technique whenever she was gone, if only just to spite her.
"Absconditus ad oculos," Constance whispered, and a blue glow emitted from the water's depths, causing her to gasp slightly. The water shimmered as it awaited further commands from her, and she stared at the beautiful shimmering liquid a while before finally saying, shakily, "Shoe me Mistress Hecketty Broomhead."
Unidentifiable images flickered in the reflection for a moment, and then she saw the dragon herself.
Hecketty Broomhead had just taken up her purse, and was heading out of the Witches Council to mount her broomstick. Constance held her breath, fearing that she might be heard.
The woman stopped suddenly, her hand on her broomstick, and she turned, looking around her. Slowly, her gaze lifted and she was staring directly into Constance's eyes.
"Constance!" she shouted, and in the next instance, the bowl flew from her lap, soaking the girl in freezing cold water. She gasped as the cold water sent a shock to her already freezing skin, and the bowl landed beside her with a series of loud noises as it resumed it's upright position.
She scrambled to the farthest wall as she heard the locks unlock one at a time, loud and echoing like the sound of bullets. The door soon flew open to reveal her tutor.
"Constance?" Amelia inquired, her kind voice pulling her out of reverie.
"Is everything all right?"
Constance nodded, taking a sip from her tea, "Yes, Amelia." she said, raising her eyes to look across the table at Imogen, who appeared a bit concerned as well. She had felt the woman staring at her, and Constance huffed, getting to her feet,
"I shall relieve Davina from her duties," she said, turning to leave. She didn't appreciate being stared at with such concern. She was fine. Charlotte was fine. Everything was going to be fine. She just needed to distract herself, and the one thing that always did it was keeping herself busy with daily duties.
"But don't you have lights out as well?" Imogen asked, and Constance looked round at her.
"Yes." she replied, and left just as Amelia had tried to call her back.
(A/N)- Next chapter is Charlotte's first day at school. Yayay. :P Also look me up on Youtube if you have a moment - I'm SeltzerAddict on there. I've got an HB vid and a collab involving her, looking to finish at least one more ... Anyways, review please! Next update should be soon!